There's No Biz Like Show Biz
by GinnyWazlibRocks
Summary: Voldy realizes his current true meaning in life when he discovers Broadway. Now his plans to open a fantastic albeit plagiarized show will be the money maker of a lifetime, if only he had a cast. But that's what Death Eaters are for... FINALE!
1. A Prologue in a New York Minute

AN: I'm really super excited about this one. It may not be long, but I promise the ending will be great, if not (modestly) clever.

DC: Who invented Time Square anyways? Whatever, it wasn't me.

**Rodgers and Hammerstein II – Stephen Sondheim – Irving Berlin –**

"Minion," Voldemort said one uneventful afternoon. "I'm bored."

"Mmm." Said Snape who was concentrating very hard on finishing his article for _The Monthly Brew_, a magazine dedicated to tea.

"I think I shall Apperate around the world, for the hell of it."

"Mmm."

'…_but as an avid Leaf Head myself, I can certainly give my opinion on the controversy between Irish and English tea…'_

Snape ignored the pop, and continued scribbling away in his meager editorial column.

**Rodgers and Hammerstein II – Stephen Sondheim – Irving Berlin – **

It is a well-known fact that it takes the most experienced wizard to Appearte merely across a continent or ocean. It's a little known fact that probably not even Merlin himself could have Apperated successfully around the entire world, though he never tried. This might be because he was worried about Splinching himself, or maybe he saw doing so as a point defeating action, since the idea was to end up in exactly the same place as you started.

Whichever the case, Voldemort was unaware that a) it was should never being attempted, and b) if it even _did_ work, it was sort of like setting a previously aflame house on fire.

And thus it is understandable that when he opened his eyes, he was not, as he expected to be, in Malfoy Manor, but in a huge, unfamiliar metropolitan.

This place, according to his glance upon the first sign he thought would indicate the name of it, was called _Coca Cola, a Refreshing Twist of Lime and Lemon!_

Then he saw all the _other _signs, and thought, "_Damn_."

For there were bright fluorescent lights _everywhere_, saying things like "Wicked, Coming soon!" and "M&Ms" and "Bank of America" and "Avenue Q" and "Subway, Lines B, D, S, Penn Station."

_They really ought to pick one name and stick with it_, the Dark Lord thought, now exploring along the sidewalk filled with people all wearing black trenches.

And finally he happened upon a glorious pronunciation via information booth: Welcome to Time Square, New York City!

_They call this a _square_? _Voldemort wondered skeptically, glancing around. _More like a multi-lateral… thing._

So the Dark Lord wandered for a while, not once thinking that he could probably Apperate back home within the next 15 seconds. You should all be glad he didn't though, because if he did he would've left NYC and that would've been the end of this rather pointless fic.

Then, dusk fell. And Voldemort realized his true meaning for life.

From within a darkened theatre he witnessed singing. And laughter. And voices. And music. And _happiness_.

… And the posters on the wall boasting that hundreds of grands had been made.

Voldemort's pupils changed comically to pound signs, which changed to dollar signs as soon as the American editor fixed them.

"My new passion in life!" he shouted to the heavens, interrupting the performance of Hairspray. "Musical theatre!"

… Meanwhile, Snape finished his article and unknowingly pulled another piece of parchment to him.

**Rodgers and Hammerstein II – Stephen Sondheim – Irving Berlin – **

AN: That was fun. I love NYC, Broadway, etc. This fic will be amazing. If not a vehicle to poke fun at New Yorkers a little.


	2. So Much For Sweeny

AN: Hope you guys like it, I know _I_ had fun. Well... a little social commentary here too. Sorry, Hannah Montana lovers.

DC: Okay, this one, I can understand why some people _miiiiiiiiiiiight_ get a little law-suity. So I'm saying this now: I do not own Wicked or Rent catchphrases.

Enjoy!

**- Popular – One Short Day – No Good Dead – Defying Gravity – Thank Goodness -**

"Alright people, let's get moving!" Voldemort called from his classic directors chair. He had intended to complete the 'look' by growing a little moustache and goatee, but sadly he had no hair follicles. So he settled for the beret and all black clothes.

Next to him, Snape returned with a variety of pastries. "You requested some doughnuts, but they had so many…"

The Dark Lord glanced down at the tray. "Hmm… you know, the sprinkles are always good, but then again, I like the frosted as well…" he tapped his chin. "What the hell, I'll take them all!"

He snatched up the plate and sat, munching.

Up on stage, a number of famous actors stood to audition.

"Excellent…" Voldemort said evilly, noting which ones had responded to the casting call. "Minion, who's all here?"

"Um…" Snape pulled out a list. "We have Johnny Depp… Orlando Bloom… Kira Knightly…"

"What, the cast of Pirates? I want _theatre_." Voldemort snapped.

"Oh…" Quickly, and without drawing the Dark Lord's attention, Snape scratched off Geoffrey Rush.

"Well… Idina Menzel… she's really good. Lots of people say she can even defy gravity."

"But no one mourns the wicked, Minion."

"Hey!" Idina yelled from the stage. "Take me, baby, or leave me!"

"Ooh, feisty." Voldemort commented. "But Bohemia is dead. She's off the cast."

Idina scowled. "Well if you care to find me, just look to the western sky." She spat, and turned on her heel, stalking off.

The rest of the room exchanged glances.

"Oooh – kay…" Snape shook himself and resumed reading the list. "We have Miley Cyrus."

"No way," Voldemort said, "I don't want people thinking that my show hires bra-flashers."

Snape stared at Voldemort, mildly taken-aback. "Why sir," he said with surprise, "I didn't' think you knew the word bra."

There was an awkward silence. Completed with the Awkward Turtle.

"_Moving on_…" Snape coughed. "Brad Pitt, George Clooney, David Hyde Pierce…"

"No," The Dark Lord said, flicking a crumb of doughnut off the arm of his chair.

"Harrison Ford?"

Voldemort started. "Whoa!" he exclaimed, eyes wide with pure shock. "That guy is still _alive_?"

"… Yes…"

"Wow… Carbon sure preserves people, doesn't it?"

"Um… whatever you say, sir."

"Exactly. Next?"

Snape frowned at the list. "Just a bunch of low class people" he sighed.

"Names?"

"Daniel Radcliff… Maggie Smith… Ralph Fienne…"

"Their names are funny. Kick 'em out."

"Oh wait, sir. There's one more…"

"Yes?"

"Alan Rickman, sir."

Voldemort paused. That was an interesting name, to be sure, and also familiar. Hadn't Alan Rickman played something important recently?

"Eh… Let him go. I get the feeling I won't like him."

Sadly, Snape crossed off the name.

"So… who's left?"

"Er… the cast of Pirates, sir."

"What?" Voldemort snatched the list and scanned it.

"Damn." He said, returning the rumpled piece of paper.

"Shall I keep them, sir?"

"Hmm…" Voldemort debated. "Keep Depp, but let the others off."

"Consider it done. And would you like more doughnuts?"

**- Popular – One Short Day – No Good Dead – Defying Gravity – Thank Goodness -**

Voldemort surveyed Depp with interest. This man could do quite a lot. But the Dark Lord needed something _fresh_, something _new_, something _exciting_.

"I've got it!" he declared, flourishing a hand in triumph. "The musical that will make us all rich beyond our wildest dreams!"

Everyone in the theatre leaned in a little closer.

"It's been a while since any new rendition of this has been released, and I'm happy to say it will being something different and interesting for all of us!"

Interested and excited murmurs ran across the stage.

"Do you want to know what it is?"

"Tell us!" The crowd chorused, preparing themselves for the show of a lifetime.

"Sweeny Todd!" Voldemort declared enthusiastically, flinging both arms into the air.

There was a scathing pause.

"Not _again_!" Depp screamed, tearing out some of his hair. "Never again am I working with ketchup as blood! Never!"

And he stormed out.

"Well damn." Voldemort said. "There goes _that_ plan. Minion, bring the list of musicals over here."

Snape appeared at the Dark Lord's side, holding an extensive list that trailed to the ground.

"Cross off 'Wicked', 'Rent', and 'Sweeny Todd'." Voldemort commanded. "Now read the rest of the list."

"But sir…" Snape said, "it's so long, and I'm sure the readers wouldn't like just sitting and reading every single musical on Broadway."

"Well then, what _would _they like?"

"I don't know, why don't you ask them?"

"Alright then…" Voldemort turned towards the fanfiction readers and said loudly and clearly. "You heard, so out with it. I need suggestions on what musicals to do, seeing as there's about five billion on Broadway, and most of them haven't even been heard of. Please no overly T rated plays (Spring Awakening and Avenue Q, I'm looking at _you_,) but I'm open to the more known productions!"

"Well…sir…" Snape began tentatively, "Actually, I have a little something I'd written out, in case you wanted to-"

"Not now, Minion," the Dark Lord said grandly, "I'm breaking the fourth wall here. Why don't you just go have a cup of tea?"

Snape pouted. "They don't _have_ tea here," he moaned. "All they have is this awful _black_ stuff, and StarBucks doesn't even offer Rooibos!"

"Well, go run along and learn about a new culture." Voldemort said absentmindedly. "I'm waiting for the readers to tell me which musicals I should do."

Sadly, Snape dragged his feet out the door and was inadvertently mugged in a dark alley because he responded to the rusty call of "Hey, you!" from the shadows.

**- Popular – One Short Day – No Good Dead – Defying Gravity – Thank Goodness -**

AN: Well, you heard the Dark Lord, tell me your favorite musicals in reviews. Chop chop here!


	3. The Copyright Piano of Death

AN: Maybe a little short? Ah well, I hope it's just as funny.

Thanks to all the suggestions and reviews!

DC: Well… you'll see. I just hope no ghosts come to _me_ about copyright… (shudders)

**Climb Ev'ry Mountain – 16 going on 17 - Lonely Goatherd – Favorite Things – **

"Right." Voldemort declared after reading the fanfiction reviews, "I have evaluated the options, and one stuck out in particular! Drum roll, please!"

Lucius grabbed a pair of drumsticks and began a drum roll on Snape's head, who was still out cold after being mugged by, yes, _muggles_.

"Our musical production is… the Sound of Music!"

"_HUZZ_-_AHh_hhhhhhhhhh… ah…" went the crowd, as they remembered watching the Sound of Music in band class for four days... So much for enthusiasm.

"Now, I've already got it all cast: Lucius, you're Captain von Trapp, Bellatrix, you're von Trapp child 1-6!"

Snape took this moment to regain consciousness. "What about me?" he asked, or rather groaned because the muggers had used large bricks.

Voldemort clasped his hands happily in front of him and said brightly, "Minion, I'm especially please with my casting for you! You're Gretel, the seventh von Trapp child!"

"… Isn't Gretel supposed to be a three year old girl?" Lucius asked carefully.

"Of course!" the Dark Lord trilled, "That's why Minion is playing her and not you!"

"Ah…" Lucius suddenly felt a wave of relief and didn't press the matter.

"Now then, let's get started! Places for the top of Scene 1!"

Everyone arranged themselves accordingly onstage, or rather, _back_ stage.

The theatre dimmed, and Voldemort settled back in the middle section of the audience, to watch what was going to be the worst, most unpracticed rendition of the Sound of Music of all time.

The music began with a forte of violins on E string.

Then it continued, as if there was supposed to be someone sinigng along.

"Stop, stop!" the Dark Lord cried. "Where's Maria?"

Snape poked his head out from behind the side curtain.

"Er… you didn't cast her, sir."

"Yes I did! I sent for Julie Andrews! Where is she?!"

"When I called her about the part, she responded by hanging up, sir. I don't think she's coming."

"Damn…" Voldemort muttered. "And she was our only hope to make it to the Tony's…"

"What was that, sir?" Snape called loudly.

"Nothing, nothing. Keep going!" The Dark Lord covered quickly, waving his hand to continue.

"… Idiots…" he muttered under his breath.

**Climb Ev'ry Mountain – 16 going on 17 - Lonely Goatherd – Favorite Things – The Hills Are Alive**

"Okay people, good rehearsal!" Voldemort clapped his hands from the audience, as the slightly bemused cast climbed down from the stage.

"But sir…" Snape said, "that was, if you allow me to be frank, _God bloody freaking awful_."

"Practice makes perfect!" the Dark Lords chided lovingly, patting Snape on the head.

"Owowow… That's where they used the bricks, sir…"

"Ah yes…" Voldemort chortled. "Now to bed, all of you! Go on!"

The crowd allowed itself to be herded outside the theatre, last of all Snape, who had to be forcefully pushed out, as he had developed a fear of darkness, muggles, and bricks.

Humming the Imperial March from Star Wars, Voldemort headed to the little flat outside above the stage. He got ready for bed and blew out the light.

That night, he had a dream…

Voldemort was awoken by a strange sound.

He sat up quickly. "Who's there?" he cried

"VoOoOoLdEmOrT…" sounded a ghostly voice.

"I've got a wand!" the Dark Lord managed, the stick in his hand shaking so fast that it couldn't be focused upon for more than two seconds.

The voice laughed. "A WaNd WiLl NoT hElP YoU hErE…"

"Show yourself!"

The pearly ghost of a man appeared, along with a ghostly piano.

"I aM RiChArD RoGeRs… MuSiCiAN iN tHe RoDgErS aNd HaMmErStEiN DuO!"

"I thought it was Hammerstein II…"

"ShUt uP! ThAt'S wHaT I mEaNt!"

"Can you stop with the 'caps-lock on', 'caps-lock off' thing? It'll give the readers a headache."

"Fine, but it will take away from the whole 'ghostly appearance' thing."

"Whatever. That's what imaginations are for. Now, why are you here?' Voldemort demanded bravely.

"I come on behalf of me and my partner, Oscar Hammerstein!"

"The second." The Dark Lord corrected.

Rodgers' ghost grumbled.

"The second." he amended, then continued in a grander voice, "To tell you to stop doing the Sound of Music as your production!"

"But-!" Voldemort protested, and was cut off by one transparent finger.

"No buts!" Rodgers commanded. "We have a monster copyright on all of our works! So don't you go trying to revive _anything_! That's ours!"

"Okay okay… _sorry_." Voldemort muttered.

"Good. Now I must away, there's a man in London trying to alter the King and I."

The ghost vanished, the piano following with a disgruntled curse of forgetfulness.

Voldemort awoke.

"What a dream!" he exclaimed. "Good thing it was just that, and nothing more!"

He went downstairs, with every intent of continuing the Sound of Music.

… Until he saw the newspaper's headline.

_**London Man Found Dead, Appeared To Be Smashed By A Piano**_

"Dear Satan!" the Dark Lord gasped. "Rodgers actually _does _kill copyrighters!"

He rushed to the theatre, waving his arms frantically, as the cast had already arrived and began to warm up.

"Stop! Stop! Don't sing another measure! He'll come! He'll come!"

The crowd exchanged skeptic looks.

"Rodgers came to me in a dream last night! He told me to stop the Sound of Music! Then he _killed this man_!" Voldemort brandished the paper.

"Ohhh-kay…" Snape said, glancing at Lucius sideways.

"I'm the producer/director, so you have to do as I say!" The Dark Lord commanded. "Sound of Music is off!"

"Then what's _on_?"

"I have some ideas…" VOldemort grinned evilly. "Now," he proclaimed to the fanfiction readers, "I need a funny, one-syllable name! Broadway shows are great too, but a one-syllable name is better! Excellent."

He turned back to the actors pleasantly.

The cast looked at him as though they didn't know utterly insane people could direct on Broadway. Actually, they _did_ know this (lots of directors are insane) but that didn't stop them from wondering how _this_ guy had ended up in charge.

**Climb Ev'ry Mountain – 16 going on 17 - Lonely Goatherd – Favorite Things – The Hills Are Alive**

AN: I need one-syllable names, guys, so just toss 'em out. I have vowed to get more readers involved, and possibly get more reviews… And for the record, it took me about _five hours_ to type up just the dream. You're welcome. And who else has been stuck with a crazy director? I mean, I'm not saying they're _bad_ or anything...


	4. Coughing Llama, Hungry Jaguar

Sorry it's taken so long to update. This summer has been busier than I thought it would be. Oh, and be sure to check my profile; I've posted an interesting list… tell me if I forgot any brands when you check it.

I was quite proud of the chapter title, however...

Oh, and sorry to all people who hate certain Disney animated movies…

DC: I don't own crap.

Enjoy!

**block – dry tech – off book – wings – fly house – pit – blacks – green room**

"So?" Lucius asked after Voldemort explained his dream about Rodgers. "What are we doing _now_?"

"Disney!" The Dark Lord proclaimed. "We'll rip off a Disney movie and turn it into a musical stage production!"

"Pocahontas!" Lucius squealed. Then looked around and said in a manlier voice… "For the John… character… _ahem_… yeah!"

"No, Lucius…" Voldemort brushed off. "I've already picked out the movie."

"Why? Why not ask us for an opinion? We have a union, you know!"

Voldemort ignored him. Unions were for Communists. This much he had learned from Joe at the DMV.

"I've decided upon it because I already found our lead."

"Who is…?"

"Ted."

"Ooh!" Snape said, "Sounds huggable! So who is he playing?"

"Alright," Voldemort was getting super pumped for this. The movie was hilarious. "How many people have heard of the Emperor's New Groove?"

The cast groaned. "We're doing _that_ movie?" Lucius demanded. "The lead is a talking llama, for god's sake!"

"I know!" enthused the Dark Lord. "And I found a talking llama! On eBay!"

"Wait." Snape said. "Ted is a talking _llama_?"

"Yup! Playing Kuzco!"

"Where is he?" Lucius asked, looking about, as if a llama would drop out of the ceiling.

"He should be arriving soon," the Dark Lord said. "In fact, I think I hear him backstage now!"

Voldemort pranced backstage, not noticing the varying looks on the actors' faces.

_Five awkward minutes later…_

The Dark Lord reappeared on the stage and proclaimed to the cast, "I give you… Ted!"

A dingy, yellowish llama clopped in after him, smoking.

"Yo." The llama said, a bit of ash falling from his cigarette and making a little pile on the stage.

"Our new star!" Voldemort trilled.

"…" said the cast.

"… So much for huggable." Snape whispered, just in earshot of the entire theatre.

Ted made a hacking noise.

"Can he actually _sing_?" Lucius hissed.

"Totally." Ted coughed. "Just watch."

The llama spat, somehow keeping his cigarette in his mouth, and began to sing.

Soon, everyone in the theatre had tears in their eyes. Voldemort clasped his hands, pleased.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" he asked.

"No," Snape gasped, "his nicotine breath is just really bad."

"Oh. Well, here…" the Dark Lord strode over to Ted and shoved a handful of Tic-Tacs, into the llama's mouth.

"Better?"

"Much."

**block – dry tech – off book – wings – fly house – pit – blacks – green room**

"_Emperor's New Groove: The New Musical"_

(The paper in Snape's hand read.)

"_Cast:_

_Kuzco – Ted_

_Yzma – Lucius_

_Kronk – Lucius_

_Pacha – Lucius_

_Pacha's pregnant wife – Lucius_

_Villager 1 – Lucius_

_Villager 2 – Lucius_

_Villager 3 – Lucius_

_Guard 1 – Lucius_

_Guard 2 – Lucius_

_Guard 3 – Lucius_

_Old man – Lucius_

_Jaguar puppeteer – Lucius"_

"Sir?" Snape called out tentatively to Voldemort. "I noticed I'm not on the cast list…"

"And?" the Dark Lord asked distractedly. Ted was having trouble breathing again.

"Well it seems like Lucius has a lot of parts to play, and the jaguar puppeteer might need be cast again to be manageable, so maybe I-"

"Could look for a real jaguar on eBay? Good idea, Minion. Hadn't thought of that."

Snape turned away crestfallen. "Yes sir…" he said miserably.

"Oh, and Minion, by the way, you're the stage manager."

"A techie?" Snape demanded. "But I want to be on stage! I want the spotlight! And besides all the other techies in this theatre work on commission."

"Now now…" Voldemort waggled a finger disapprovingly. "The theatre needs everyone to do a different part."

Snape scowled. "I need tea…" he muttered, and slunk away.

**block – dry tech – off book – wings – fly house – pit – blacks – green room**

"Sir…" Snape managed, entering the Dark Lord's private dressing room, "the jaguar is here…"

"Excellent!" Vodldemort trilled, turning away from the doughnut table. "Bring it in!"

"Sir… it's wild. It needs a stage trainer."

"Ah…" The Dark Lord nodded wisely. "Hmmm…. How about you, Minion?"

Snape winced. "Me?"

"Yes! Here, I'll even help you out." Voldemrot waved his wand, and a dozen raw steaks appeared in the air above Snape.

"Ack!" Snape cried as the meat dropped and splattered him with… juices. "The meat! The meat! It _burrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrns!_"

The Dark Lord frowned. "Don't tell me you're still in that 'vegetarian' stage."

"It's a religion, sir." Snape replied testily. "I am a member of the Soy-Reincarnation Fasters."

"Mmm. Sounds sort of lame."

"Actually, they have a facebook."

"Bet _my_ facebook group has more member than _your_ facebook group."

"Oh," Snape narrowed his eyes. "It's _on_."

The rather carnivorous growl from outside interrupted the off-topic discussion.

"Anyways," Voldemort jovially took Snape by the arm and shoved him backstage, and sweeping the steak behind the Soy-Reincarnation Faster with his foot. Slamming the door, he dusted off his hands.

He heard the muffled yelps and chuckled to himself.

"Always the kidder, that one…" he sighed, smiling pleasantly and going back to writing the script, "Always the kidder…"

**block – dry tech – off book – wings – fly house – pit – blacks – green room**

AN: Yup. I've revived the art of making life miserable for Snape. If it had ever died… And plus I've become addicted to facebook.


	5. Bonus Question Chapter

This is for PrincessOfNargles, because I'm not one to let down a good reviewer.

**Lalalala…. Eh.**

Voldemort, still in the dressing room, turned to the readers.

"Alright kiddies!" he chided, sounding frighteningly opposite off the evil demeanor he had spent the past 70 years working on.

"A certain fan wants a question… so here it is!"

He opened his mouth, and sat there, with it open, for a minute or two.

"Psst…" he hissed to the author. "Where's the question?"

The author, off set, gave him an irritated, harried look. Her hair was falling out of her ponytail, and her desk was cluttered with papers and empty cups of coffee.

"Hang on…" she muttered. "I've got to think one up first!"

"So what am I supposed to do, just sit here?"

"_Shush_!"

Voldemort sat on set, where everyone could see him, and smiled awkwardly, glancing back and forth.

Minutes passed. The sound of scratching issued from the author's desk.

A techie ran up to the Dark Lord holding a slip of paper. He managed to wave at the readers as mouth "hi, Mom!" before Voldemort absentmindedly pushed off the set.

"Jeez…" the Dark Lord exclaimed conversationally. "Your handwriting is awful!"

"Well _sor-ry_."

Voldemort skimmed the question. "Desperate, much?"

"Just read the bloody question, or I swear, the next character getting mugged will be _you_!"

"Touchy touchy…" the Dark Lord tut-tutted.

"_Read the effing or this pen goes up your-_"

"Well, fanfic readers," Voldemort interrupted. "Lots of people are doing facebook! Do _you _have a facebook?"

He looked up and grinned cheerily at the audience.

Then he glanced back down.

"Oh, there's a post script… P.S. if you don't want to answer to that particular question, tell me what your favorite color is."

Again, he flashed a smile to the readers.

"Happy, guys?"

**Lalalala…. Eh.**

AN: You heard the man. Facebook, color, happiness. Triple whammy!


	6. In Which Coherent Plots Give In

AN: Warning. This is one of the most pointless chapters I've ever written. Heads up guys.

And to soosha-q, here's to me remembering requests waaaaaaay back from iVoldy.

Thanks to all of you fantastic readers. When the humor runs low, your great reviews bring it back in a flood! X)

DC: Okay, seriously. I'm not even going to bother writing these any more. Warner Bros. can just get over itself. So _ha_.

Enjoy!

…**I've run out of catchy ideas for page breaks…**

Ted was having breathing problems. Again. The cast and crew of Voldemort's theatre were desperately trying to get him to quit smoking. They even got him a free T-shirt that said, "There are cooler ways to die" with a picture of a cigarette.

Unfortunaly, Ted didn't wear clothes. Which became a problem when it came to costuming.

In other news, Voldemort wanted new curtains for the stage, but couldn't decide on a color. _His_ favorite presumptive color was death. Not black, (black was_ soooooooooo_ yesterday) but death. Unfortunately, curtain companies didn't carry it, so he had to choose something else.

Eventually he decided on green with silver, and purple trim. And the catalogues and color chips got him so excited he hired a bunch of designers to redo the whole theatre. He had it painted red, green, and blue. It ended up looking classy, if not clashy.

Lame excuse for asking for favorite colors in the first place completed, he waited for the cast and crew to arrive for rehearsal after picking Ted up from rehab.

One by one, the thespians filed in. Last to come was Lucius.

"My god, man." Voldemort exclaimed when he saw the Death Eater. "What the hell are you wearing?"

Lucius glanced down at his robes, a combination of sky blue and spring green. "I had a random fashion designer come in," he said nonchalantly. "I was feeling colorful."

The Dark Lord stared for a full minute at the bright, happy robes.

"I need some of those…" he gasped eventually. "What was the designer's random name?"

"Sasha."

Voldemort snatched a pen from Snape and scribbled the information on his hand.

…**I've run out of catchy ideas for page breaks…**

Rehearsal did not go very well. The cast was unaccustomed to working in a brightly colored theatre, and as such continued to run into each other, props, and fall off the stage.

"It's the jaguar, scene!" Lucius yelled to Voldemort from the stage. "Where's the jaguar?"

"No idea." The Dark Lord shrugged, speaking a little louder to be heard over the consistent roars and growls issuing from backstage.

"Dang."

They sat around for a moment.

"Anyone else hear something?' Voldemort asked.

Some people glance around, cocking their heads to listen.

"Nope," one answered.

"Hm." The Dark Lord frowned. "Must just be me then."

They kept doing nothing, as they couldn't continue rehearsing without the jaguar, and they were all too lazy to go looking.

Once again, Voldemort interrupted the silence.

"Are we missing someone?" he asked.

Lucius seemed to be pondering this, but before he could answer, a man in a suit walked through the door.

"Mr. Voldemort Voldemort?" he said in low, serious tones.

"Over here!" The Dark Lord waved cheerfully. "What can I do you for?"

"Mr. Voldemort," the man said coming over. "We need to know what the production you're putting on in this theatre is. You're opening night is scheduled a month away, so you might want to pick one soon."

"No problem." The Dark Lord replied airily. "Is that all?"

"Well, there's this group of muggers outside. They said they were waiting for a certain victim to come out, but he hasn't yet, so they were wondering if everything was alright."

Voldemort snapped his fingers. "That's it!" he cried. "We forgot our scapegoat!"

"Who?" chorused many of the thespians.

"Minion!"

"… That's _Snape_, right?" Lucius asked carefully.

"Er… right!" Voldemort agreed. "Snape, Minion, whatever… the point is we've forgotten him!"

"Where?"

The Dark Lord frowned.

"I have no idea..." he said slowly, over some muffled screams, issuing from backstage.

"Well, I'll just being going." The man in the suit said. "What should I tell the muggers?"

"Oh, tell them he'll be out shortly." Voldemort waved off.

The man left.

The door backstage banged open. Snape, bloodied, mangled, and rather depressed looking, dragged himself out.

"I… need… my… tea…" he muttered, scooting along the floor to the green room, leaving a faint trail of blood.

"Hm." Voldemort noted a few minutes after the green room door had slammed. "So_ that's_ where Minion got off to."

…**I've run out of catchy ideas for page breaks…**

AN: Okay, I know, it was sort of pointless. I'm counting on you guys to discern the one meaningful bit of plot development, and that is that there is now a _deadline_ for Voldemort's production. (Oooooh, dramatic music….) But this was just a chapter that wrote itself, so I had no control over relevance. Now that I think about it, anychapter that writes itself involves some amount of misfortune for Snape, and is one damn smart chapter…

My question, because I couldn't fit it 'coherently' into the chapter is this: How many of you have heard of the musical Title of Show?


	7. Snape's WannaBe Temptation

AN: Look for the song titles! I'll be super happy if some people catch them! (By the way they're in the second and third paragraph only…)

DC: Last and final warning. _No mas_.

Enjoy, wonderful reviewers!

**How Lovely to be a Mean Green Mother From Outer Space – Closed For Telephone Hour – Kids/Dentist**

Voldemort was feeling rather blue. The Emperor's New Groove: The Musical wasn't pulling through like he expected it would. There were a few issues with the cast… specifically, Ted had been diagnosed with lung cancer, and now Lucius seemed to be buckling under the pressure of playing nearly the entire cast.

And Snape… that man was _impossible_, always whining about rabies, and bodily harm, and flesh wounds. Dear Satan… The Dark Lord shook his head exasperatedly. That man needed to put on a happy face. It wasn't as though he lived on Skid Row. Sure, they'd all like to live someplace green, but at least he wasn't an English teacher.

What did I ever see it him? Voldemort wondered sadly.

Then it hit him. He raced into rehearsal.

"How many of you know how to swing dance?"

Everyone stopped what they were doing and raised their hands. The were _theatre_ people, after all.

"Excellent!" he crowed. "New play!"

The cast and crew erupted in groans. From the stage, Lucius looked up irritably from Ted's now consciences form.

"But I just revived him!" The Death Eater complained, motioning to the llama, who was reaching for his lighter.

"Sorry!" The Dark Lord quipped. "But you guys seem pretty down, and I know that one sure fire thing to cheer people up is swing dancing!"

Snape moaned. "Isn't swing dancing a _painful_ thing to force people to do?"

Voldemort chortled. "Minion, minion, minion… Silly, swing dancing is fun! Which is why I've picked two musicals that involve lots of it!"

"Two?!" The thespians demanded.

"Combined." The Dark Lord admitted. "It's called Bye Bye Shop of Horrors!"

Good musical theatre turned in its grave.

The cast and crew stared at their psychotic director with dead, disbelieving eyes, and slack jaws.

"We're doing Bye Bye Birdie and Little Shop of Horrors? Together?" Someone asked.

Confirmation came when Voldemort flounced off humming a song that sounded like "Suddenly Seymour" and "One Boy" crudely merged.

**How Lovely to be a Mean Green Mother From Outer Space – Closed For Telephone Hour – Kids/Dentist**

"Kim, get onstage, Orin, get off!"

"Er…" someone said. "Kim and Seymour are both being played by Lucius."

"Oh…" Voldemort tapped his chin. "That could be a problem… Minion?"

Snape bounded up, hoping that the Dark Lord might see a spark of talent in him, and cast him once more…

"Yes, sir?"

"Find a wig for Lucius, will you?"

The Death Eater and the Soy-Reincarnation Faster both performed double takes in perfect unity.

"You _really_ suck at taking hints, don't you?" Lucius managed at last.

The comment flew right over Voldemort's head, as he waved Snape off into the costume storage.

**How Lovely to be a Mean Green Mother From Outer Space – Closed For Telephone Hour – Kids/Dentist**

It was later found how deep Lucius could sing. The answer was _not very deep at all_.

"Are you a tenor or an alto?" Voldemort asked with frank innocence after the attempt to do 'Feed Me' failed.

Lucius grit his teeth. "Tenor."

"Mmm… if I could read notes, I would transpose the music for you, but…" Voldemort shrugged. "Better work on that testosterone!"

"Can't you just _magic_ in a deadly, man-eating plant?" Lucius pleaded, ignoring Snape's screams of horror at the thought of taming it.

"Hm, good idea, Lucius." The Dark Lord nodded appreciatively. "Where do you get such great ideas?"

"TV Land."

"I'll have to remember that… anyways, one deadly, man-eating plant coming up!" Voldemort waved his wand, and a huge, Venus-fly trapper appeared. Everyone cringed, waiting to see what it would do.

… Nothing. The rehearsal continued.

**How Lovely to be a Mean Green Mother From Outer Space – Closed For Telephone Hour – Kids/Dentist**

That night, for not apparent reason, Snape crept through the theatre.

"Hey… kid!" The plant from the stage whispered.

"You… you can talk?" Snape stuttered.

"Of course I can talk."

"English?"

"What am I speaking right now? Braille?"

"… I thought I might have suddenly become bilingual…"

The plant twitched a little. _Why_ did he get stuck with the wishful one…

"That's not the point, kid." The plant quickly covered up. "I've got a favor to ask you. I need some blood."

"Okay, no problem, I think Edward Cullen knows where to get some-"

"_Human _blood. Like, say, the guy who's been abusing your crush."

Snape gasped. "You're _right_. That guy deserves to die! I can't believe how he's been treating-" He paused.

"Wait a minute…" Snape narrowed his eyes. "I don't _have _a crush."

"Really? Damn." The plant cursed.

They stood there a minute.

"Well…" the plant tried again, "Anything you devote your life to? Any passion?"

Snape racked his brains. _Hmmm…_ Randomly he remembered he needed to turn in that article for _The Monthly Brew_, and sign up for the Asian Tea convention.

"Nope." The Soy-Reincarnation Faster said brightly. "Nothing comes to mind!"

"#, kid, how 'bout this:" the plant was getting irritated, "you kill some people, I score you some money, fame, whatever, and then you let me take over the world. Sound good?"

"Throw in an unlimited stash of Belgium Cream in their novelty tins, and it's a deal."

The plant cackled.

Suddenly, and without warning or explanation, a herd of teenagers from the late 1950's came partying through, led by Conrad Birdie, who was singing.

As they cleared out, it became apparent that only Snape, master of surviving fatal situations, was still alive. The plant looked as though a saber-tooth tiger had used it as it's scratching post, eaten it, then puked it back up. As cats do.

Despite Snape being apparently immortal, he still lay on the stage, groaning slightly, and definitely bleeding until Voldemort came downstairs from his flat.

"Damnit!" The Dark Lord swore when he saw the destroyed prop.

"We can get a new one…" Snape suggested. "Maybe a puppet…" _That I can operate!_

"No, the musical was corny anyways. Next one!"

As the cast and crew filtered in, there was a unanimous, ongoing groan.

**How Lovely to be a Mean Green Mother From Outer Space – Closed For Telephone Hour – Kids/Dentist**

AN: Wow… that turned out better in my opinion than I expected… Anyways, I'm sorry I don't have a question! I've pretty much set the plot, so questions aren't needed… but I'll try to work them in more. Also, if you find the lines from the songs, please message me to ask about the answers, incase some people don't want the temptation of it being spoiled… if they even care… XD


	8. The Closet Opens, and Out Comes?

AN: Well, we're nearing the end. Mind you, this _isn't _the end, but we're nearing it.

Plus, a major secret revealed! Yeah!

Enjoy!

**Techies do it in the dark! Techie is just another word for 'ninja'. Piss us off and act outside.**

"Sir?" Snape said one day during rehearsal, "What play are we doing?"

"Oh… I'll figure it out eventually." Voldemort laughed, while sorting through a pile of doughnuts.

"But sir," Snape persisted, "Opening night it tomorrow."

"Ahhhh…. always the kidder, Minion… always the kidder."

"No. Seriously, shouldn't we be working on something, instead of lazing about and performing CPR on Ted?"

"Relax," The Dark Lord advised. "Go drink some coffee."

Snape gagged, and limped off.

A little while later, for no apparent reason, Voldemort realized something.

"Omigod, guys! Omigod, omigod, omigod!"

"What?" Chorused the… chorus.

"Opening night is _tomorrow_! Like, _omigod_!"

"That's what I've been trying to tell you!" Snape shouted from the jaguar's cage.

"O. M. _G_!" Squealed the Dark Lord.

"So are we going to work on a play?" Lucius asked hopefully.

"We can do that later. I totally forgot about Tech Week!"

"… Tech…. Week?" moaned the cast.

Everyone in theatre knew about Tech Week. It was when all the techies converged upon the stage to get it ready for the performance. It was also known as Hell Week.

"Yup! Bring in the techies!"

A herd of black clad thespians swarmed the stage, with drills, hammers, buckets of paint, and speakers. Within seconds, the theatre was filled with the sounds of rapid construction and randomly chosen music.

An hour or so later, a techie with a headset approached Voldemort.

"Sir? You'll want to wear this headset."

The Dark Lord frowned. "Why would I?"

"If anything goes wrong in the play, you'll know about it, and be able to help."

"Ahhhh… that's good. Thank you, young emo."

The techie glared resentfully at Voldemort. "I may be dressed in black, but I'm not emo, sir."

"Whatever you say…" The Dark Lord said patronizingly.

The techie wandered away, severally annoyed.

**Techies do it in the dark!**

"I need a ladder!" Voldemort proclaimed. "That ceiling tile needs inspecting!"

Lucius hurried up. "We only have one ladder and Snape's using it to adjust the lights, so if you could hang on for two seconds…"

The Dark Lord pointed over to the stage. "What about _that_ one?"

"Sir… I just told you… that's the one Snape's using."

"Perfect!" Voldemort strode over and collapsed the ladder as Snape wobbled precariously on top.

"Sir… sir! I'm still on this! No - wai - ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!-"

_Crunch_.

"...ow."

Voldemort hummed brightly and lugged the ladder below the ceiling tile that needed to be inspected.

"Sir," Snape barely managed because his lungs were nearly imploded. "I was using that!"

"There's no 'I' in 'team', Minion!" Voldemort chided cheerfully.

"There's a 'me'…"

"Okay… There's no 'technician' in 'team'."

"There's no 'actor' either!"

"No," Voldemort began climbing up the ladder, "but there is in 'Tony Award For Best Musical'."

He smirked craftily, quite proud of himself for thinking that up.

Snape spent the rest of the day trying to come up with a witty-come back.

**Techies do it in the dark! Techie is just another word for 'ninja'. Piss us off and act outside.**

Lucius also had a headset. He thought they were rather fashionable.

The Death Eater sat backstage, with Ted, next to the defibrillator. He was coming to realize something.

"You know… Ted…" he sighed. "I think watching Will and Grace is getting to me."

He looked mournfully at the llama, who sat with a pack of cigars.

"I'm gay."

**Techies do it in the dark! Piss us off and act outside. Techie is just another word for 'ninja'.**

All around the theatre people stopped whatever they were doing and looked around.

Because all around the theatre echoed the words voiced by Lucius Malfoy.

"_I'M GAY._"

The silence was echoing.

"Okay…" someone began tentatively, "Who's on loudspeaker?"

**Techies do it in the dark! Techie is just another word for 'ninja'. Piss us off and act outside.**

AN: Major turn of events. You might have suspected it for a little while, but now it's confirmed. Sorry, but past this it won't come into play much, unless it really fits.


	9. Finale: You Won't Believe Your Ears

AN: Finale. Gotta love it. Hearts to all those who reviewed! Millions and millions of hearts!

**HMS – HMS 2 – HMS 3 – HMS 4 (can't they just **_**quit**_** already?!)**

"Aaaaaaaaah! Lucius!"

The Death Eater looked up from his book, _Congratulations On Coming Out! The Beginner's Guide to Looking Fabulous!_

"Yes, sir?"

The Dark Lord rushed over across the greenroom. "It's the most terrible thing!" he cried, Snape following in suit. "Today is… is…"

"Opening night." Lucius shrugged. "No _duh_."

"But I don't have a single thing to perform!" wailed Voldemort.

"Your problem." Lucius looked back down, turning a page.

Snape stepped hesitantly in front of the Dark Lord.

"If… if you don't mind, sir… I…" The SoyReincarnation Faster's eyes were suddenly alight with hope. "I have a piece worked out, and if Lucius is will to sing opposite me…"

Voldemort looked Snape over suspiciously. "It might be worth a shot… what is it?"

"A song from a musical."

Now Lucius was interested.

"Which one?"

Snape took a deep breath, knowing this could very well be his big-break. It all depended on how they liked the play…

"High School Musical," he told them, holding up a packet of music.

The Dark Lord and Death Eater read through it.

"It's good." Voldemort amended.

"It's very good." Lucius agreed.

"Well?" Snape asked anxiously. "Can Lucius and I give it a shot?"

The Dark Lord though for a moment. "Minion," he said, "I'm not going to lie. This is a good song, and from you and Jack-"

"-Lucius-"

"-whatever. From you and this gay guy, it might pull us out of the red. And as they say in the show biz, 'The show must go on!'"

Snape and Lucius nodded.

"So get out there, and bring me in the green!"

**HMS – HMS 2 – HMS 3 – HMS 4 (can't they just **_**quit**_** already?!)**

Snape walked onto the stage. He was dressed in a Wildcats' basketball uniform. The piano started, and Lucius entered, wearing a girlish lab coat.

The SoyReincarnation Faster began to sing…

"_We're coughing,_

_sneezing_

_There's not a help for my head cold_"

Lucius joined in.

"_And we're dying_

_Cause we cannot breath_"

Together now…

"_You know the world can't cure us_

_In a way that won't cause bad side affects_

_Laying out biscuits for us_

'_Til we find some tarts_

_But it may just give me strength_

_Strength to recover_"

Snape took it up, crossing to crossing to center, face scrunched up with passion:

"_We're making tea!_

_Pouring_

_Stirring_

_There's not a leaf in Harrods that we can't steep_

_If we're boiling_

_Yeah we're making tea_

_Oh, we're making tea_

_Can you hear it building_

_Like a whistle you just can't stand_

_Running to the steaming_

_It's your very goal_

_Very goal_

_Boiling 'till it hits the top_

_So every mug can see_

_We're making tea_

_Pouring_

_Stirring_

_There's not a leaf in Harrods that we can't steep_

_If we're boiling_

_We'll be making tea_

_Oh, we're making tea_

_Looking,_

_Searching_

_To get the tin, to drink all that we can brew_

_Here's the thyme_

_So we're making tea_

_More England_

_More UK_

_Now it's time_

_It's midday_

_And together_

_We start pouring_

_More for you_

_More for me_

_Not a want, but a need_

_Both of us making tea_

_Pouring_

_Stirring_

_There's not a leaf in Harrods that we can't steep_

_If we're boiling_

_Yeah, we're making tea_

_Making tea_

_We're looking_

_Searching_

_To get to the tin, to drink all that we can steep_

_Here's the Irish_

_Here's the Chai_

_So we're making tea_

_Oh, we're making tea_

_You know the world might cure us_

_In a way that won't cause bad side affects…"_

Their voices petered out… their hands falling gracefully from the crescendo…

The crowd went wild.

From the black box, Voldemort cheered as well. "Perfect!" he shouted, as green bills flowed from the cash register. "Oh, this is wonderful!"

And so it was a happy night.

Then they found the closing notice posted the next morning.

**HMS – HMS 2 – HMS 3 – HMS 4 (can't they just **_**quit**_** already?!)**

AN: Yup. That was it. Hope you enjoyed my finale! For a better affect search "We're Breaking Free" on YouTube, then play the music while you read my lyrics.

Until next time,

ginny


End file.
